


I Wouldn't Miss You if You Died

by MildlyInsane



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: M/M, Slight Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 16:30:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MildlyInsane/pseuds/MildlyInsane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things get confusing whenever the person you thought you hated dies, and you realize you may hate him a lot less than previously thought.<br/>It get worse whenever it turns out that he isn't dead, and is really just a massive fucking dick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wouldn't Miss You if You Died

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my friend Xephin on help and advice (at times).

His fingers tighten around the sword in his hand, his jaw tight. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid fucking Lalna. He was fucking sick of his shit- he wasn't going to stand for any more of this. He wasn’t going to let his testing get closer and closer to his base until it finally blows up everything once again.

He takes a sharp breath in, his walking getting faster as he remembers why he is going to his castle. Why he hates him so much, why he is such a dangerous little idiot that he can’t believe he let grow “powerful”. As powerful as one could be while being a fucking idiot that screws around with cheats and runs on alcohol and cheap sex.

He’s not going to let him use and abuse him like the others, not going to let him giggle and brush off everything with a small “oops”. He is going to have to actually explain, actually _stop._

He purses his lips as he walks past the large black box he had once been trapped above, his curiosity getting the better of him before he got caught in a force field. And to think, he had just wanted to talk with Lalna. Not threaten or anything- Just ask a simple question.

Why did he do it? Why did blow up the old world?

It expanded into something stupid because of Lalna. He can’t help but snicker at the thought. Lalna’s stupidity is infecting everything he does. Figures. Lalna is pretty good at being that fucking dumb.

He scowls as he reaches the large gates in front of his castle. Why couldn’t he just have a door like a normal human being? Instead, he puts a cold metal _thing_ that nobody can enter without feeling uncomfortable or overwhelmed. He doesn’t really get visitors anyway, he supposes, so it works out well enough. Any visitors he does get probably hate him, anyway. He doesn’t seem like one to actually be able to make friends.

Of course, he’s not really one to talk.

He’s not going to give Lalna the pleasure of having to open the gate for him. He’s not going to be submissive and literally cry for help just to get into his castle. Won’t give him comfort or anything; the element of surprise is important in this case, and he won’t let Lalna ruin that. Won’t let him ruin that like everything else he touches.

He rolls the ender pearl between his fingers, the cold smooth ball purring into his warm hand. He pulls his arm back, shifting slightly, before releasing it, watching it soar over the walls gracefully. He crouches, closing his eyes to prevent the burning that always comes along with teleportation. He supposes it’s a fair trade, just having to close your eyes in return for literally travelling most anyway without any effort.

“Oompf.” He grunts as he feels the ground rush towards him, barely able to keep himself from falling on his face. His eyes are shut and his face as relaxed as he could make it to prevent a headache, the dizziness overwhelming.

Maybe he was lying about there being no side effects.

Finally feeling like he was stable enough to support his own weight, he opens his eyes.

And screams.

He pushes himself backwards, feeling the grass scratching his palms as he stumbles away, his eyes flaring in horror. His legs push him back another step before his arms give out from under him, his head slamming against the ground.

He stares at the sky, dazed. He stays that way for only a moment before what he saw overwhelms the pain spiraling around his head, the image screaming in his brain. He forces himself up, stumbling to his feet before falling to the ground again.

No. No no no no no no.

This can’t- He couldn’t be-

He’s supposed to-

He crawls over to it, staring at the puddle of blood, his reflection staring back. The bloodied lab coat is torn and smeared with oil and vodka. Broken glass surrounds a pair of goggles, the strap snapped and the lens splattered with blood and grease.

“No…” The words escape his lips, quiet and horrified.

“No!” He repeats, this time louder. “You can’t be dead. You just- You can’t!” His words become panicked as he realizes what he is saying, what has happened.

“This isn’t- You aren’t allowed to be dead, you can’t be, you can’t be, you- you’re supposed to always be here, always be here for me. I’m supposed to fight you- You aren’t supposed to lose, you can never truly die, you never do, you can’t-” He chokes on his words, reaching down and pulling the coat into his hands and staring at it.

He rolls his thumbs over the shoulder creases, one of the arms completely torn and missing. “I can’t believe this,” he chokes down a cry. “You… can’t leave like this. Not just…”

His hands tighten into fists around the fabric, clutching it tightly. “Fuck, Duncan. I can’t believe- I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry that you are- I would fucking _kill_ \- I would do fucking anything to bring you back, to scream at you one last time, to see your stupid fucking grin one more time, to- to see your stupid blond hair and face and body again.” He trails off, his eyes stuck on the coat.

He pulls it to his chest with a shuddered breath, wrapping his arms around it. It almost feels as if he is here, his smell soaking into Rythian, his mask having fallen around his neck.

“I don’t understand- Why are you dead, Duncan? Why did you do this- How can you do this to me, to everyone? I can’t… I can’t imagine a world without you, you can’t be dead, it’s just not…”

He doesn’t want to admit that it is possible, that he has seen the tired under his eyes, that he has seen the scars and burns and pained expressions escape from him whenever he thinks nobody is looking. He isn’t invincible, he isn’t immortal.

“Why didn’t your stupid science save you this time?” He chokes, a single tear dripping down his cheek, his emotions swimming through his body and clogging any attempt he has to function.

He can barely feel the small tapping on his shoulder, his brain foggy and his eyes burning. But by the third time, his eyes flare and he shoves the coat to the ground, turning around and shoving the person into the wall without even seeing who it was tapping him, forcing their hands back against the wall, his palms pressed against theirs.

His growl catches in his throat as he sees who it is, a choked cry escaping his lips.

Duncan catches him by the elbows as his legs give out from under him, barely able to keep him upright. “Steady there,” He says breathlessly, a small look of amusement mixed with stun lighting up his eyes.

Rythian opens his mouth to talk before his eyes widen in anger. He pulls his arms down, pushing him into the ground with a thud and landing on top of him, trapping his arm with his leg and grabbing his chin, tilting it up to look at him.

“Why are you fucking- Lalna, you motherfucker!” Rythian shouts, his words jumbled and angry, his head swimming.

“Oh, boo.” Duncan pouts, “Lalna is so formal.”

Rythian pulls his head up and slams it into the ground.

“Fine, fuck, call me what you want.” Duncan wheezes, falling limp.

“That’s not the fucking issue here, you idiot!” Rythian’s eyes flare, his jaw tight.

He hesitates slightly, biting his lip, “What is, then?”

Rythian takes a sharp breath in, “I thought you were dead- Why did you fucking _make me think that?!_ ”

“Uh, I didn’t mean to,” Duncan shifts uncomfortably underneath him, “Uh, Rythian, not that I am complaining or anything, but, uh, your knee is kind of on my, uh,” He coughs as Rythian’s eyes widen, him quickly scrambling off of him, Duncan tripping up after him.

“You’re sick.” Rythian sneers, his eyes narrowed.

Duncan puts his hands in the air in fake surrender, “Hey, I’m not the one confessing their undying love to a seemingly dead person’s clothes and caressing a guy’s junk with their knee.”

Rythian’s face flushes, “Neither of those things happened.”

Duncan snorts, “At least the first did. The second may be a slight exaggeration, but knee-dick stuff did happen, even if not purposely.”

“I didn’t see you trying to move!” Rythian says, flustered.

“Uh, for one, I did, and I mentioned it to make you move, and, again, I wasn’t complaining.” Duncan smirks, crossing his arms.

Rythian blinks, “You’re sick.”

“Already said that, man.” Duncan smiles mischievously, his hands falling onto his hips and twisting smoothly, “And like you wouldn’t.” He purrs.

“What the fuck- Duncan!” Rythian’s face twists into disgust and horror, his palms sweaty and his face red.

“Got you to say my name, that’s at least a small improvement.” Duncan grins, “Now I just have to get you to confess your undying love to my face.”

“I’m not going to- I don’t love- What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He looks around hopelessly.

“Oh, lovely,” He hums, stepping closer to the mage, “I heard you, I saw you. I know how you feel,” He turns to his side, sliding close enough for Rythian to feel his breath on his cheek. “The question is why you kept it a secret.”

“I kept it a secret because it isn’t a thing.” Rythian growls, shoving Duncan away.

“What will it take for you to admit it?” Duncan pushes him against the wall gently, cupping his hand around his chin and pulling him close. “I’ll do _anything_.” He purrs, using Rythian’s words against him.

Rythian swallows, heat crawling up his neck. His words get caught behind his tongue as Duncan leans forward and kisses him.

If you were to ask him later, he would deny everything. He would deny pulling him closer and putting his hands around his neck. He would deny slipping his tongue into his mouth, and deny enjoying it all.

Duncan breaks away slowly, a small smirk playing on his lips that Rythian now knew as soft and plump. Rythian shakes away the thoughts, just staring at him.

A moment passes before his face contorts into anger, bringing his knee up between the scientist’s legs. He forces him into the ground again, holding his arms behind him so that Duncan is forced up and looking at him. Duncan cries out in pain, tilting forward but stop by Rythian, his legs forcing the other’s down.

“What the fuck?!” Rythian shouts.

“I could ask you the same question,” He croaks, before Rythian punches him side of the face. Duncan’s head jerks towards the ground, his breathing heavy as he struggles from under him for a moment.

“Answer me.” Rythian’s eyes blaze as he yanks him up farther, cherishing his yelp of pain.

“I like you, you like me, what’s the issue?” Duncan squeaks, tilting his face away from Rythian’s stare.

“The issue,” Rythian says, grabbing his collar and forces his head up, “Is that you _use people_ , and I don’t ‘like’ you, you ass.”

“I use people- Is that what you think? I don’t-” He pauses, pursing his lips and looking to the side, his eyebrows creased. “Hm. Well then.” He nods, slightly impressed. “I guess I do, then.”

“You _guess_?!” Rythian’s eyes narrow, “You _guess_?!”

He hops to his feet, pointing a finger at him, “You mean you didn’t even fucking _realize_ that you were messing with these people’s lives? And whenever you did, you just shrugged it off?” He can barely keep himself from screaming as Duncan crawls to his feet. “You are fucking with these people’s lives, Duncan, and you don’t even _care_.”

He waves his arm vaguely to the side in disbelief. “You fucker, you don’t even care about anyone other than yourself, do you? You just use people for supplies and testing and sex and it’s _disgusting_. How do you even _live_ with yourself?”

“Fairly easily, actually.” Duncan’s usual smirk is replaced with a tight jaw and serious expression. “I am supreme, I have overcome the average laws of mortality and liveliness. They have not proved worthy; If I have to use them to advance, so be it. I have done tons for them, anyway.”

“Oh my god, you actually think that.” He shakes his head, angry disbelief coating his emotions. “You actually think that _anything_ you do is worth the lives and feelings of other people? You make me sick, you make me _so fucking sick_ -”

He can’t stop himself from rearing back and launching his fist into Duncan’s face, feeling the cry of hurt and nose crack under his clinched hand. Duncan looks surprised for only a moment before his face hardens, his teeth gritting. He bends down quickly, his feet shifting under him, and punches him in the stomach, before jumping and spinning, kicking him hard in the chest.

Rythian flies back into the wall, collapsing against it before Duncan forces him up and punches him in the cheek, forcing his head to jerk and slam against the wall. Rythian growls, turning back and jumping forward, struggling against the scientist’s grip. Rythian hisses under his breath, cursing the fact that he seemed to have finally wised up and actually learned how to fight instead of relying of weapons and science at all times.

Their eyes are narrowed at each other, a vicious staring battle with no signs of ending. A mischievous look passes behind his eyes and he tilts his head down, a grinning hinting at his lips. He leans forward, biting on Rythian’s bottom lip.

He lets go of it a moment later, but doesn’t let him go, just watching his eyes flash and his nostrils flare.

“Let go of me.” Rythian growls. Duncan smirks.

“Gladly.”

He lets go of Rythian, kicking him in the knee so that he gasps and crumbles to the ground, his head slamming against the brick wall before he can stop himself. He bites his lip to keep from screaming, but pushes himself to his feet, his fists clinched as tight as his jaw.

“Fuck you, Lalna.”

“Mm. Feeling’s mutual, Rythian.” Duncan puts his hands on his hips, gesturing towards the now-open gate.

“Remember,” Rythian stops just outside of his castle, not even bothering turning back to the scientist, practically feeling him hang out of the door with a smirk. “Come back soon. I couldn’t live without you.” He mocks.

Rythian tightens his fist around his sword once again, feeling blood drip from his hand.

Stupid, stupid, stupid Lalna.


End file.
